Her Ringtone is REO Speedwagon
by Diane LD
Summary: A history of drunk-dialing. Shawn and Juliet. Shawn seemed a little too at ease to receive a call from Juliet in the wee hours of the morning for it not to have happened before...


Author: DianeLD

Disclaimer: Not mine, no infringement intended, no profit being made.

Summary: A history of drunk-dials. Juliet and Shawn in the wee hours of the morning.

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3:25 AM and he's watching the latest infomercial for that male enhancement product that Shawn has always wondered if it _really_ worked. Those guys in the testimonials seem so enthusiastic, Shawn giggles. And yes, he's man enough to giggle. Only just.

3:26 AM and the power chorus to REO Speedwagon's "Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore" blasts from his phone, vibrating in a circle on the glass tabletop where he's resting his feet. He takes a second to enjoy the velvety tone of Kevin Cronin's singing voice before he plucks his phone from the coffee table in a fit of joy—Jules is calling!

3:27 AM and he can hear street noises and the giggles of several stumble-y, intoxicated females. Jules is shushing them violently in that drunken way that means you're serious, but you're not. Shawn has taken classes in the art, so he can recognize it very well.

"Guys, shhhhhhhh…" she hiccups and then laughs hysterically. "No, seriously, guys, shhhhh…."

Shawn puts his feet back on the coffee tabletop and settles in, his arms behind his head and a smile on his face.

3:28 AM and he can discern that Jules is taking her vacation very seriously and has apparently closed down every bar in Santa Barbara with her ex-sorority sisters. He can hear her heels clanking in uneven steps and he knows she's stumbling and he's damning God for not letting him be there with her to take incriminating pictures.

"Hiiiiiii, Shawwwwn," she drawls and it seems the group has come to a stop, because it's just street noise now.

"Hi, Jules," he replies and he hopes she can hear the smile in his voice.

"Shaaaawn."

Giggle, giggle, rustle, rustle, giggle.

"Juuuuuuules."

Giggle, giggle, giggle.

"Shaaaaaaaaawwwn."

Shawn is not too mature to play the name game.

3:33 AM and Juliet seems to think the comic possibilities of drawing out the vowel sounds in Shawn's name is exhausted, and she's drawing in huge lungfuls of air that he can hear over the phone.

"So, what'd you have?" Shawn asks with a chuckle, which sets off the lovely Juliet again.

"JAGERBOMBS!" She replies in a terrible Long Island accent, which prompts a similar chorus from all of her sisters.

"Jagerbombs!" "JagAHbombs." "Jagerbombs!"

Shawn is momentarily disgusted. "Really, Jules? You're pulling out the 'My New Haircut?' That was over, like, 8 months ago, get with it."

"I am 'with it.' I am so 'with it'…you don't even know what 'with it' is, Spencer, I am that 'with it,'" Jules slurs.

"So, you're 'with it,' then?" Shawn antagonizes.

3:37 AM and Jules has turned mopey because one of her sister's boyfriends is a jackass on the phone, and that reminds the whole group how much they hate men. Shawn's upside down on the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I mean, like what the hell?" Jules asks, suddenly indignant. "Why can's I find somebody to love me? I deserve it, Shawn! I DESERVE it!" she is forceful and Shawn finds himself somewhat frightened that she might wring his neck. You know, over the phone.

"You do," he says simply, and he's not even trying to appease the drunken monster within the Jules shell. He means it, and he rarely gets that deep after midnight.

"I do," she says quietly, righteously. "So why don't I have it?" She asks, and it's too sad for Shawn to bear, so he asks Juliet if she's seen the latest pictures of the Kardashians at the Ivy, because he knows he has. That Khloe is fierce, scary tranny make-up aside.

"I wish I had an ass like Kim's," Jules bemoans. "Mine is all flat…"

"Not in that skirt, babe!" Shawn hears one of her sister's shout and Jules shush her embarrassingly. Shawn hopes people are looking. Lots of people.

"I'd have to agree," he laughs to Jules. "I like your ass just fine."

He wishes he could see her blush.

3:48 AM and they've run out of things to talk about. Shawn is tired, not at the top of his game. If he were drunk too this convo could go on for hours. Jules is almost home and he should really let her go, she's going to need her rest if she wants to wake up in any semblance of human form tomorrow afternoon. From the corner of his eye he can see that his Chia pet needs watering, and wonders if that's a satisfactory excuse to say goodbye to drunky.

"Is it one of the one's where it's hair? The one that kind of looks like Lionel Ritchie?" Jules asks, genuinely concerned.

"No, it's a pig. And I must care for my investment like a father cares for his only child. The sweet, tender love only a parent knows."

Jules snorts on the other end.

"Night, Shawn Spencer."

"Night O'Hara. I do declare," he says in a terrible Southern accent. It's lame, he knows, but he hopes she's cracked a smile.

"I ain't Scarlett! I'm Juliet. You know, fair Verona and all that."

"Two households, I do."

"Exactly. Night Shawney." Jules hangs up.

Shawn stares at his phone. "She did NOT."

--

Thoughts?


End file.
